


Why Don't You Go Fuck Yourself

by TrollSweat



Series: Fair Winds and Following Seas [1]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom!Flynn, Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Top!Shaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:13:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27220273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrollSweat/pseuds/TrollSweat
Summary: When Mathias is away, Flynn will behave.Or not...
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Series: Fair Winds and Following Seas [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010307
Comments: 11
Kudos: 48





	Why Don't You Go Fuck Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> *stomps into new fandom and yeets smut at the wall*
> 
> My second fic here, and...yeah. This took far too long to write, and even longer to edit. But it's been a brain worm for weeks that wouldn't let me work on ANYTHING else until it was done.
> 
> ALL THE THANKS to @Felrott for editing and helping me tweak all of everything to make it less shit :3

Shaw’s office was frightfully  _ dull _ . Flynn stood with his hands on his hips in the centre of the room. It was very small, oddly square, and far too tidy. Not a single item was out of place; each book, alphabetically arranged, was carefully aligned on the bookshelves, while each stack of parchment on the desk was squared up and weighted down with a colourful globe of glass. Even the quills were clean, and the ink bottles pristine and neatly arranged, as if they were brand new, or for decorative purposes only. The only sign of any human activity was the single empty coffee mug on the desk, set onto a coaster and placed carefully away from the paperwork.

It was, without a shadow of a doubt, Spymaster Mathias Shaw’s office, Flynn thought. Tidy, discreet, and set in the highest turret of Stormwind Keep, there was no question about it.  _ ‘Not the easiest to get to, but it is quiet, and has possibly the best vantage point in the city’. _ Mathias had told him as they ascended the many,  _ many _ stairs.

Shaw had sequestered him away while he attended to Official Spymaster Business (‘ _ Behave yourself _ ’), leaving Flynn with little to do to entertain himself. He’d already inspected every shelf, glanced over the book titles, removed several that looked half-way interesting, and flicked through the pages. And upon discovering that the contents were  _ not  _ as exciting as the titles assumed them to be, he had haphazardly shoved the books back onto the shelves, in the vague areas he got them from. There was an inordinate amount of them; history books, volumes of encyclopedic information, and entire tomes on the laws and regulations of the various isles of Azeroth, packed with language that made Flynn’s head spin.

There were no novels, no poetry, not even a single picture book! And by the Tides, Flynn was _ bored.  _ How could a man with so many books not own a single piece of prose? Not that Flynn cared for poems, but he was hoping for, at the very least, a raunchy romance novel, the sort wherein the dashing hero (an ex-pirate) rescues the damsel in distress (a red haired, moustached damsel), and they have  _ a lot _ of steamy and passionate sex...

Flynn let his mind wander, and he stared out of the window, wistfully gazing at the summer sky, where soft clouds, gently churned by the breeze, reminded him of waves on the open ocean. They didn’t quite have the same diamond-like sparkle as the sea he loved, but the effect was nice nonetheless. His thoughts drifted to ships and sails and the wind in his hair. Then a hand in his hair. Then a hand in his trousers... Before he knew it, he was palming himself through the rough fabric of his breeches.

“Oh,  _ Tides _ , Flynn,” he dropped his hand, like his cock was hot coals, “Mattie told you to  _ behave… _ ”

He took a few deep, calming breaths, and looked about the room again. Surely he could find  _ something _ to do that wasn’t touching himself.

He spent the next few minutes picking up and inspecting various objects. He found a compass on the window ledge, a familiar and solid weight in his hands, and watched the needle spin due North, no matter which way he turned it. The glass dome caught the mid-morning light, glowing like a miniature sun in his palm.

The spyglass that he found next to the compass was bronze, and looked like it had never seen the outside of the office. Extended to it’s full length, and pointed _ just so _ out of the window, it gave Flynn a fairly decent view of Stormwind harbour. He caught glimpses of Alliance sails drifting in and out of his field of vision, and watched gulls swoop and dive in a tumultuous waltz of white feathers. He let out a sigh, and his thoughts, once again, turned to the sea.

The Kul Tiran liked Stormwind, of course. Stormwind was where Mathias was, most of the time. But the Alliance city was so… so  _ clean _ , and  _ too bright _ , and almost clinical in the way the guards patrolled their set route, like they were pawns in a game of human chess. Flynn missed the grit of Boralus; the narrow alleyways, winding between taverns, and hostels, and stalls; the copper roof tops, turned green by the salt air and rainfall; the perpetual sound of the tide crashing against the shore. He missed his  _ home _ .

But, he thought as he resolutely collapsed the spyglass and replaced it on the window ledge, Mathias was his home now, and if that meant enduring a few weeks here and there in the Alliance fortress, by the Tides he would do it. For Mathias.

Flynn shook his head, and turned back to the room with determination. He didn’t know how long Shaw had been gone, but it felt like an age, and discontent to just sit twiddling his thumbs, he  _ would _ find something to do. Something to occupy his mind as well as his hands. His gaze skimmed the papers on the desk, ‘ _ Well, no time like the present to brush up on a few old tricks! _ ’ he thought, picking up the glass orb paperweights.

His attempt at juggling was… well, that he successfully managed to catch what he tossed in the air was less  _ skill _ , and more sheer dumb luck. Feeling cocky, he added a little flourish as he threw up one of the orbs, just a little spin by flicking his wrist. Unfortunately he flicked a little  _ too _ hard, and the glass sphere slipped through his fingers as he attempted to catch it, and it dropped to the floor with a loud crack.

“Fuck!” Flynn’s curse rang out in the quiet, and he slapped a hand over his mouth, scared that his yell would summon Shaw’s fury at breaking his belongings. Fortunately, the orb hadn't shattered on impact, merely rolled away out of sight under a large wooden cabinet in the corner. “Thank the Tidemother,” he whispered to himself, dropping flat to the ground to reach under the furniture. A few moments of fumbling, and he emerged with the orb in hand, which was swiftly placed back upon the desk with the other two.

He remained on his knees, trying to steady his breathing after the brief wave of panic. So, juggling was out of the question, then. But, those cabinet drawers sure did look tempting. You could take the man out of Boralus, but... once a pirate, always a pirate. Although, it wasn’t like he was going to  _ steal _ anything. Just look. With his eyes. And his hands.

He lifted his hands, and let his fingers rest on the handle. Hooking his index finger through the loop of bronze, he pulled.

The lowest drawer slid open easily, and was empty, save for a few sheets of parchment.

Rising up on his knees a little, he tried the middle, which held much the same.

The top drawer, also held nothing noteworthy, and Flynn stood, roughly pushing the drawers back in with a huff.

Tides, did Mathias own _anything_ interesting? Was he cursed to die of boredom, shut in a turret in Stormwind? He had always imagined he would go out in a blaze of glory, charging into battle for Boralus. Or-and more likely- blind drunk, and choking on a nice, fat cock.

Maybe, _ maybe,  _ he thought _ , _ he should just try and sit still, and wait, and behave like he had been told to do. “ _ Behave yourself _ ,” He muttered in a mock version of Shaw’s gruff accent, as he threw himself into the high-backed chair behind Shaw’s desk, looking around casually, before something shiny caught his eye.

The drawers of the large desk were, of course, closed. However, the lowest drawer was fastened shut with a rather large gold lock.

Flynn raised an eyebrow, poking the lock with the toe of his boot. Now this _...this  _ was interesting. Shaw was a man of secrets, sure. Being Spymaster meant he couldn’t just run his mouth. But this level of security seemed a little overkill, considering that the rest of the furniture in the room was unlocked and freely accessible, bare of any sort of confidential information.

He glanced around the office again, wondering if there might be a key to this lock. Having not found one so far didn’t mean there wasn't one somewhere… but  _ where _ ?

He stood, pondering of a safe place where Mathias would keep a key. The Spymaster would obviously be an expert at concealment, and this office was not large, or particularly well furnished, so there were only limited options for hiding places.

Flynn rubbed at his chin, fingers scratching through the rough hairs of his beard. “If I were Mathias Shaw, Spymaster Extraordinaire, where would I hide something I didn’t want anyone to find…?” He scanned the room, scrutinizing each potential spot, imagining Mathias going through the motions of reaching out and placing the key. He wasn’t particularly tall, so the highest of shelves was probably out of the question.

Perhaps hidden in a book? He rifled through the shelves, pulling out the most boring sounding tomes and shaking them open, hoping for something to fall. Nothing did, but some of the more aged tomes lost a few of their pages in the process. Flynn stared at them littering the floor, making a mental note to tidy them later, once he had satisfied his curiosity regarding the locked drawer.

Finding nothing in the books, he set about running his hands over every crevice he could reach, though this yielded nothing more than a few dead spiders, and a rat skeleton, which he gently placed back where he had found it, with a light pat to its head. Unsuccessful he turned back to the room and the remaining furniture. He searched on, under and around each item; checked in pots, under papers, even the curtains, to avail. There was nothing.

“I bet the charming rogue took it with him. That man is far too smart for his own good.”

Feeling defeated, he crawled out from where he was checking under the desk, and threw himself back into the chair, kicking the lock out of frustration. There was a click, and the drawer just... Opened. Like it had never been locked in the first place.

Flynn scowled, he hadn’t even  _ tried _ to pull the drawer open, had just assumed that the lock had been, well, locked. Tides he was stupid sometimes. He didn’t know what to expect when the drawer fully opened, but he definitely did not expect to see what he saw.

An exquisitely carved fake cock lay in the centre of the drawer, shining silver, and shimmering with some sort of enchantment. Flynn stared for a while. It couldn’t be what he thought it could be, surely? Mathias wouldn’t… would he? His imagination was running wild. Images danced in front of his eyes of the silver cock and Mathias’ arse. Then his cock and Mathias’ arse. Then Mathias’ cock, and his own arse, AND the silver cock. It was... a lot, and Flynn was at full mast within seconds.

He pressed the heel of his palm to the bulge in his pants. It seemed his dick just sprang to attention at anything these days, but it felt  _ so good _ . And he was alone, after all. High up in the tower, no-one could peer in through the windows.  _ Well _ , he thought,  _ unless they were on gryphon-back.  _ He pulled the curtains closed, just in case.

He was sure that no one would enter Shaw’s office unannounced, or without appointment. So he had complete privacy. He could surely have a nice leisurely wank, maybe inspect that silver cock a little closer too…

He stripped off his coat and threw it onto the chair. If he made a mess, he would at least mess on his own property. He sat, with his eyes fixated on the item in the drawer; a beautiful, shining beacon of pleasure. Flynn could almost feel it, his rim clenching in anticipation.

He huffed out a breath, and ran a hand through his hair, removing the clip that kept it tied in place. He preferred his hair loose when he did this, found that the sensation of his locks brushing against his skin heightened his pleasure. Mathias would often wrap the strands around his hand when they fucked, and tugging at his own hair now only made Flynn harder. He bit back a moan, and Gods, just the mere  _ thought _ of his lover was almost enough to make him come on the spot.

His other hand slid down his body, thumb catching his nipple through the soft fabric of his shirt, sending an electric shock straight to his dick. The moan he’d been holding back slipped free as he gripped himself through his trousers. It took a few deep breaths for him to calm himself, and not just whip it out and finish there and then. No, he wanted to enjoy this, to make it last.

The hand not holding his cock travelled still further down, over his abdomen, skimming over the inside of his thigh. He could feel the hairs stand on end as he continued, fingers brushing his balls as his fingers danced over his crotch to reach the ties of his breeches. He pushed the garment down just enough to release his cock, and there was a wet patch steadily growing on his underclothes. A trip to the laundry chambers afterwards, then.

He pulled the waist of his  braies over the head of his member, which was steadily leaking, and glistening with beads of pre-come. He gave himself a few rough strokes, the calluses on his hands dragging along the sensitive flesh, before the pre-come lubricated and slicked the motions. His cock gave a mighty twitch as he caught sight of the silver toy once again, subconsciously (and, come to think of it, consciously) desiring to be utterly filled with it’s girth.

He shoved his trousers further down with his unoccupied hand, kicking off a boot in the process so he could free a leg from the confines of the fabric, before sucking two fingers into his mouth. He lathered them with his tongue, covering them with spit, and reached down past his balls, and back further still until his fingertips rubbed over the sensitive flesh of his rim, still oiled up and loose from the morning, when Mathias had sucked him off with a thumb up his ass.

The first finger slid into his ass with ease, the second was a slight stretch, but not uncomfortable. With a leg lifted and a foot on the edge of the desk, he was able to get a much better angle, though neither for love nor money could he quite hit the right spot inside that made him gasp. Mathias’ long, deft fingers seemed able to do with ease, and it always left him on edge, desperately begging for more, ‘ _Fuck the Tidemother Mattie,_ _more’_.

What he could manage with his own hands felt good, though, and with his eyes closed, he continued to fuck himself with his fingers. He dragged them out slowly, circled his rim, teasing the ring of muscle until it opened under his touch and sucked his fingers hungrily back in.

The hand not currently up his own arse pushed the linen of his shirt up his torso, and pinched at his nipples until they stood in peaks. He didn’t often take the time to pleasure himself these days, he was more often focused on pleasuring his lover, so he made sure to take the time to do to himself the things that he liked.

And what he liked was a big dick up his backside, so it wasn’t a surprise that his efforts weren’t quite enough to get him off.

He was beginning to wish that Mathias didn’t have to attend so many meetings. He could really go for a hard shag right now. Mathias’ cock always felt heavenly, and filled him  _ so perfectly _ , like it was made to fuck him raw. Then he would keep his cock in Flynn until it went soft and slipped out of its own accord. At this moment, Flynn wanted nothing more than to slide onto his lover, and ride until he passed out.

As if it had heard his thoughts, the silver toy in the draw glinted in the sunlight, glittering like an invitation. Flynn’s fingers stopped their caressing motions, and slipped out with a slick pop. He wiped them on his shirt, and sat forwards for a closer look at the object that seemed to be calling to him.

The toy was modest in length, perhaps six inches, and crafted in great detail, with veins running the length of the shaft. It widened a little near the base, at which sat a pair of balls, which Flynn reached out to touch. The toy’s enchantment crackled on his palm as he picked it up, like static electricity, though it wasn’t unpleasant, just a faint buzz under his skin, like pins and needles. He was surprised that it didn’t weigh heavier, considering the material, but it felt solid in his hand, and, he thought, would feel  _ incredible _ up his ass.

As he pulled the toy out of the drawer, a ring of the same shimmering silver fell to the ground with a soft  _ clink,  _ and rolled to a halt at Flynn’s feet. Once again, his mind gifted him images of the things Mathias did to himself, alone in this office, and his own length twitched again, leaking a few more drops of pre-come to join the mess between his legs.

The ring buzzed with the same static as the toy, and Flynn knew  _ exactly _ where he would be putting it. He gave himself a few slow strokes, and slipped the ring over the head of his cock and down his shaft, to nestle at the base against his balls. It was a tight fit, and the tingling sensation of the enchantment was  _ very  _ enjoyable, though Gods only knew what it was for. Perhaps just an intensifier? Well, he guessed would soon find out.

Flynn had a fleeting thought maybe he really  _ shouldn’t  _ be meddling with strange dick-shaped toys he’d found in random places, but at the moment, he was feeling quite desperate for something a little more substantial than his fingers. He placed the toy upright on the desk for a moment, digging around in the pockets of his coat for the small vial of oil he kept for…’emergencies’.

Uncorking the glass bottle with his teeth, he upended it over the toy, covering the head with a generous amount of oil, and working it down the shaft. Tossing the now empty vial aside, he paused and considered the best position. He usually preferred it when Mathias was nestled between his thighs, so he settled for shuffling to the very edge of the chair, his arse almost hanging off the seat, and bracing both of his feet against the desk top. His full cock lay heavy against his stomach, bobbing with every breath he took, while the band of silver shined innocuously at the base.

He spread the excess oil on his hands over his entrance, pushing his fingers back inside his rim and scissoring them open, adding a third when the stretch wasn’t quite enough. His fingers worked his hole, the slick wet sounds lewd in the otherwise quiet room. Mathias could do this to him for hours on end, making sure he was completely prepared, which drove Flynn up the wall sometimes when he just wanted cock. In. Now.

Patience was not his strong suit, and possibly a little too soon, he grabbed the base of the toy and pushed the tip against his rim. The head was bulbous, a little thicker than the shaft, but with some rocking of his hips and a firm press, it slid past his rim, aided generously by the copious amount of lubricant. “Tides, Gods, _ FUCK _ !” The stretch was more intense than his fingers had been, and he had to pause for a moment to catch his breath, dropping his head against the chair back.

The toy was slender, but not a patch on Mathias’ cock, and it lacked the heat of living flesh. Without Mathias’ warm weight between his thighs, or pressed against his back, it wasn’t quite the same. But it would have to do for now. With a shuddering sigh, Flynn pressed the toy in further, slowly and gently, giving himself time to adjust to the forgien object breaching his entrance.

A deep sigh escaped his lungs when the toy was, finally, fully inside, his toes curling as he clenched the muscles of his ass so as not to let it slip out. He certainly felt less empty, not quite fully satisfied, but it took the edge off. He dropped his hands to the arm rests of the chair for a moment, letting the gentle buzzing sensations of the mystery enchantment wash over him like warm tides.

He took his cock in hand, noticing that the sensation was dulled by the ring’s tight grip around the base. He stroked firmly once, and almost fell from the chair; as his hand had moved, he swore the toy had shifted inside him. Flynn glanced down, the silver ring was glowing now, in the way that activated enchantments tended to do. “What... the  _ fuck _ was that?” He stroked again experimentally, and the same thing happened. The toy was reacting to the movement of his hand.

“Oh,” he whispered, delighted at this discovery. He set about discovering just how sensitive the toy could be, varying the speed and length of his strokes. The toy matched him in perfect sync, and if he leant forwards just slightly, he could see the base of the toy as it thrust back and forth with the rhythm he created.

One particularly long stroke had the toy slamming into his prostate, and Flynn cried out, the pure feeling of ecstasy making him repeat the motion with reckless abandon. He was so hard now, pre-come was dripping in a continuous stream, but the silver ring seemed to be doing a good job of holding back any sort of release. The overstimulation of his prostate was maddening, and he had to shove his knuckles into his mouth to prevent himself from making too much noise.

He wanted to stay like this forever, perpetually on the edge of release, but denied the pleasure. He was biting down hard enough to break skin, his back arching in a way that his hips lifted off the chair completely, his ass in midair, being fucked by an inanimate object.

It was then, that the door swung open, and Mathias stepped into the room. “My apologies, I was held up for longer than I expec…” he trailed off as he took in the sight before him. Flynn barely noticed him enter, was too caught up in himself to acknowledge his audience. He was a wreck, one hand working his swollen cock in long, firm jerks. With his feet on the desktop, he knew Mathias could see the silver toy working itself into Flynn’s ass unaided, but following the same rhythm as his hand.

“Gods,  _ Flynn _ ,” it was said as barely a whisper, as the door slammed shut. Flynn jumped at the sudden sound, scrambling as the chair scraped back a few inches. He glanced over to the door with lidded eyes, spotting Mathias leaning against it, with a hand grabbing his dick through his trousers. Flynn could see that he was already achingly hard, and with the delectable display before him, who wouldn’t be.

“Matt.. _.” _ He couldn’t quite manage to choke out the words, his face was flushed, and beads of sweat shimmered on his forehead. He let go of his dripping cock to run his hands over the backs of his thighs, and spread his legs wider. An invitation.

Luckily, Mathias didn’t hesitate. He crossed the room in two strides to reach him, standing between Flynn’s legs and raking his gaze over the younger man from head to toe. “ _ Gods _ ,” Mathias said again, quietly drinking in the sight of Flynn's loose hair, the rosy blush of arousal on his skin, and finally the slick flash of silver between his cheeks. Flynn knew he must look like a wanton whore, but at that moment, he didn’t care. Mathias was here, and that was all that mattered.

He couldn’t help himself, and reached out a hand to grope at any part of Mathias’ he could reach. Mathias grasped the hand in both of his own, pressing a kiss to the bite marks on Flynn’s knuckles. Flynn was about to speak, when Mathias dropped to his knees, and used his thumbs to spread Flynn's cheeks apart, and watch in fascination as Flynn used the enchanted toys to fuck himself.

When Flynn's hand stuttered, Mathias gently pushed it aside and took Flynn's cock into his mouth. The added sensation of warm wetness made Flynn squirm in the chair, the mouth working him sucked and licked, making the toy shift in ways he couldn't have managed with his hands alone. Even the sensation of wet warmth seemed to be transferred from his cock to the toy, and the sensations inside him were mind blowing.

However, it was too much when Mathias reached up to rub his palm over the base of the toy, pressing it in deeper. Overwhelmed with sensation, Flynn whimpered and bucked his hips, up into Mathias’ mouth, hitting the back of his throat. “Mathias,  _ please...”  _ he begged, clasping a hand around Mathias’ forearm, "Need you.. _.in me _ ..".

Mathias pulled off Flynn's cock slowly, like he was unwilling to stop. Flynn didn’t bother to stifle his moan when he saw how wide blown Mathias’ pupils were, how debauched he looked after only having his mouth on Flynn’s cock. There was spit in his moustache, and dripping down his chin, which he wiped away sloppily with the back of his hand. 

“Yes, love, yes of course.” Mathia’s voice was husky, his throat raw. It went straight to Flynn’s gut, the curl of need tightening into a knot.

Mathias stood, guiding Flynn's legs around his waist, and lifting him from the chair with ease. Flynn made a disgruntled noise as the movement jostled his cock and, subsequently, the toy inside him. “Tides, please be gentle Matt,” he croaked out, as he was placed on the desktop. Mathias exhaled a shuddering breath, and leant down to capture Flynn’s lips in a fierce kiss, greedily licking his way into Flynn’s open mouth when he couldn’t help but gasp.

Flynn moaned again, louder this time, and shifted until he could press his ass against Mathias’ crotch, where his hardness tented the front of his breeches. Flynn rolled his hips against the stiff length of Mathias’ cock, eliciting small sounds of pleasure from the spymaster, and it didn’t take long for Mathias to break away, scramble to unlace his trousers and shove them down to his knees.

Mathias took a hold of the toy’s base, looking Flynn directly in the eyes as he did so. “I’m going to remove this now,” he said gently, and slid it slowly, almost tenderly, from Flynn’s body. The Kul Tiran mewled at the loss, hooking a leg around Mathias’ hips, to try and coax him forwards and  _ inwards. _

Mathias readily obliged, dropping the toy onto the chair behind him and lining his cock up with Flynn’s hole. Pushing in was easy, one smooth motion, assisted by the lubrication and Flynn’s thorough preparation. Despite the use of the toy, it was still a stretch for Flynn to take Mathias’ substantially thicker, and longer, member. But Gods, it made him feel full, and loved, and  _ whole _ .

When fully seated, Mathias paused, and looked down at the ring still tight around the base of Flynn’s cock. He reached to remove it, but his hand was sharply slapped away, and Flynn croaked a warning, “Love, if you take that off, I’ll come on the spot, and that won’t be much fun for anyone. Leave it, just  _ fuck me.”  _ He rolled his hips hard, forcing Mathias deeper, and setting a rapid pace that had the desk creaking ominously under them.

Mathias met every roll with a thrust, pushing Flynn’s legs upwards and hooking them over his shoulders to change the angle. He braced himself on the desk, his hands by Flynn’s head, where he could twist a lock of dark auburn around his finger. Flynn grabbed the front of Mathias’ shirt, and pulled him down into a hungry open-mouthed kiss. Almost bent in half, Mathias’ cock slammed into his prostate on every single thrust. A stream of curses spilled from his mouth, his kisses turning into little more than panting breaths against the Spymaster’s lips.

The loud and unmistakable slap of flesh against flesh filled the room, mingling with the gasps of ecstasy from both men, and the groaning of wood. It didn’t take long for Mathias to reach his peak. He dropped his head and pressed his forehead to Flynn’s chest, “Love, I can’t hold it, I’m going to...”

“Yeah,” Flynn whispered, scraping a hand lovingly through Mathias’ copper coloured hair, “yeah,  _ fuck _ , okay. Together…” Flynn reached down and slipped the ring from his cock, and just in time, dropping it to the floor as he came in thick, white spurts over his abdomen. Not long after, he felt the warm, slick sensation of Mathias spilling inside him, thighs shuddering against his ass as his legs weakened from orgasm.

Then, they were still, their heavy breathing the only sound in the room. As usual, Mathias didn’t pull out right away, rather waited the few minutes it took for his dick to soften, and slip out of his lover naturally. He flopped back into the chair with a content sigh, reaching under himself when he realised he was sat on the silver toy, and pulling it free. He turned it in his hands, a contemplatory look on his face.

Flynn made a disgruntled noise, disappointed by the loss of Mathias’ warmth in and around him. But the empty feeling was gone now, he was satiated. “Tides be damned Mattie,” he cursed, pushing himself up on his elbows, making a face as he felt come dribble out of his hole and drip onto the desk, “Where on Azeroth did you find that thing?” He nodded towards the toy in Mathias’ hands.

“I’d forgotten I’d hidden it in here,” Shaw admitted, wiping the toy clean on his shirt, before tossing it back into the open desk drawer.

“You forgot what you keep in your own office?” Flynn asked in confusion. Surely a man tasked with collating knowledge would remember that he had a fake dick shoved in his desk.

“What?” Mathias’ tone was equally as confused, “Flynn, this isn’t my office.” He chuckled, “Do you really think I’d leave  _ anyone _ alone in a room with some of the most sensitive information in the Eastern Kingdoms?” Shaw smiled, “This room hasn’t been in use for months, I was hoping we could, uh, use it for some alone time.”

“Well, that we did, didn’t we?”

“That we did.” Mathias smirked, “Though it seems you had most of the fun on your own, hm?” He gestured at the wreckage, of torn pages and upturned ephemera, and of course, the silver cock, glistening in the drawer.

“Ha ha,” Flynn’s tone oozed sarcasm, and though he wouldn’t admit it to Mathias, he did sometimes enjoy the act of pleasuring himself more than letting another do it for him. But that didn’t explain why there was a magic dick currently in view. “So, just _ why _ was that hidden away here? You aren’t holding out on me, are you? A secret sex room?” Flynn looked around almost expectantly.

“Ah,” Mathias flushed, looking sheepish, his eyes flicking away from Flynn to rest on something in the distance. “It was… a joke. Genn’s idea.” Mathias rubbed the back of his neck, “He, uh, thought perhaps some... _ release,  _ would lighten my mood _.  _ I think his exact words were ‘ _ why don’t you go fuck yourself’. _ I guess now I know what he meant.” Mathias cocked his head as he contemplated the toy again, “Fascinating magic…”

“Hmm, a little direct, isn’t he?” Flynn said, carefully pushing himself up and sliding off the desk to pull his clothing back into place, “He knows you are not an available man?”. He didn’t mean it to sound jealous, he trusted Mathias complicitly. Mathias looked at him, there was a raw emotion in his eyes that made Flynn regret the question immediately. He could feel the wetness of Mathias’ seed spill into his underclothes, and he knew that his lover would not give such a precious load to just anyone.

“Sorry,” he whispered, leaning down to place a kiss on Mathias’ forehead. Mathias looked up at him, and slipped his hands under Flynn’s shirt, grabbing at his waist and pulling him into a proper kiss. Flynn’s cock gave a feeble twitch. He felt a little sensitive, but he would never say no to another round. “So, Mr. Shaw,” he said, pulling away, “what plans do we have for the rest of our day?”

He watched as Mathias tucked himself back into his trousers, and straightened his clothing and hair. It almost looked like nothing had happened, whereas Flynn still looked a mess. Well, it wasn’t like he had anywhere to go. A plan formed in his mind, and he scooped his fingers through the mess of Mathias’ come on the desktop. He waited until the older man looked up, then sucked the fingers into his mouth with a loud moan, and flutter of his eyelashes.

He could hear Mathias’ breath hitch, “Gods you will be the death of me,” the spy muttered, closing his eyes, before getting to his feet, “But, alas love, I have other business to attend to.” His mouth quirked into a melancholy smile, and Flynn saw that he did look genuinely saddened at having to leave once again. He smiled back, dropped his hand and leant in, pressing a chaste kiss to Mathias’ lips, trying to convey, as much as he could, that he didn’t resent Mathias for doing his job, but also so Mathias could taste himself on Flynn’s tongue. He pressed in closer, letting his crotch brush against the renewed erection in his lover's breeches. Mathias might have to leave, but that didn’t mean the fun had to end...

Mathias kissed him once again, and pulled away, adjusting himself to tuck his cock into his waistband, and hide the tent of his breeches. He turned to leave, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll see you at home, love.” 

“Wait,” Flynn quickly scanned the floor, catching the glint of silver in his peripheral vision. He snatched up the ring from where it had rolled under the desk, and scrambled towards Mathias, who shifted to face him with a puzzled look.

Flynn gently slid his hands into the waistband of Mathias’ trousers, and gently slipped the ring onto his lover’s cock, securing it at the base. He removed his hands, not before trailing his fingers along the shaft, enjoying how it twitched under his ministrations. Then, he readjusted Mathias trousers, gave his cock a soft pat, and strode back over to the desk, throwing himself back into the chair and kicking his feet up onto the desk.

“So,” he said with a wicked grin, fishing the toy once again from the drawer, and holding it aloft, “want to test out the range on this thing?”


End file.
